


Finally

by being_alive



Series: Tybalt, Tybalt [12]
Category: Romeo And Juliet - All Media Types, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare, Romeo et Juliette - Presgurvic, Rómeó és Júlia (Színház)
Genre: F/M, Montague!Reader, POV Third Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-09 00:11:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15255135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/being_alive/pseuds/being_alive
Summary: "Of course," Tybalt can hear Mercutio say as he turns to leave, and he knows then that he's walked in on the tail end of their conversation. At that moment, his Montague sees him, and a wide smiles breaks out across her face at the sight of him. He can't help but to smile as well, though he quickly forces it from his face as he says, "Mercutio. Montague.""Good afternoon, Tybalt," Mercutio says in reply, watching Tybalt as he walks closer and takes the seat next to her, before continuing, "I was just leaving.""I'm not going to stop you," Tybalt says, wryly, as his lips twitch upwards.---A companion toIn the Gardens Once More, set in Tybalt's point of view.





	Finally

**Author's Note:**

> This is it.

When Tybalt arrives at the Montague compound a little after noon, Benvolio is standing outside of the gate, leaning back against it with his arms crossed, looking even more worried than he usually does.

"Tybalt," Benvolio says in greeting upon seeing him.

"Benvolio," Tybalt says in return, stopping in front of him and stating, "I assume Juliette asked you to wait out here for my arrival."

"You assume correctly," Benvolio replies, turning and opening the gate before gesturing for Tybalt to enter. He does so and then Benvolio enters as well before shutting the gate.

"So, I suppose I know now why you wanted me to take you to see Lady Montague. So that you could marry my cousin," Benvolio says, walking to stand in front of Tybalt.

"Yes," Tybalt replies simply. Benvolio raises an eyebrow before saying, "That was unexpected, believe me. I thought you were here to tell her you had vowed to never marry one of us, or something of that nature."

"Lady Montague thought something similar to that," Tybalt replies with a shrug. Benvolio sighs and continues, "I wasn't even aware you and she knew one another, but I suppose it wasn't impossible for you two to have met. I just wish you'd perhaps waited a little while to get married."

"Why?" Tybalt asks, glancing towards Benvolio.

"Because now my aunt won't quit badgering me about finding a Capulet wife. Roméo and Juliette started this entire thing, and then you and my cousin encouraged it, and now, as the unmarried nephew of Lady Montague, all the remaining pressure falls on me. Believe me, my reluctance isn't really due to the Montague and Capulet feud but mostly because I'd just rather not get married at all. Not yet, at least, and not to someone I don't love or even really know," Benvolio says with yet another sigh before adding, somewhat hesitantly, "Mercutio has agreed to help me speak to Lady Montague about this...situation, but I was wondering if you could at least tell me which of your relatives is least likely to stab me in my sleep?"

"Juliette's Nurse," Tybalt says, quickly, with a slight smile on his face. She's not a relative, not really, but the look on Benvolio's face is worth it.

"Does she even count?" Benvolio asks before his eyes widen in surprise as he says, "Wait. You just made a joke."

"Perhaps," Tybalt replies, his smile widening as Benvolio looks at him as if he's grown a third head.

"You need to stop with all of these surprises before I keel over from the shock of it all," Benvolio grumbles. Tybalt can't help but laugh before listing off the names of some of his cousins who he thinks fulfill Benvolio's requirement. Benvolio nods, his expression thoughtful, and says, "Well, I suppose we shouldn't keep Juliette waiting for much longer."

Tybalt nods and then he's following Benvolio as Benvolio leads him into the building and up two flights of stairs and through two hallways to the left in a path that Tybalt recognizes as the one to Lady Montague's study, but then they make a sudden right turn before stopping in front of plain door. Tybalt shakes his head at all the turns involved to get to places and wonders if this is how his Montague felt when he first showed her around his home.

Benvolio pauses with his hand on the door, turning to look at Tybalt before saying, "Oh, and Tybalt? I know my cousin can take care of herself, so I'm not going to threaten you with bodily harm if you hurt, but I do encourage you to not do anything that would necessitate bodily harm."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tybalt replies, knowing full well that he has no intention of doing any such thing.

"Good," Benvolio replies, and then knocks twice on the door before calling out, "Juliette! Tybalt is here."

"Come in," Juliette calls in from inside the room. Benvolio opens the door and Tybalt walks inside, noting that they're in another study of some sort, before his eyes fall upon Juliette, sitting at a small table laden with food and glasses of wine, radiant in a blue dress and her hair gleaming golden in the sunlight filtering in through a window. She looks up at him and smiles at him before turning her gaze to Benvolio and saying, "Thank you for bringing him, Benvolio. You're welcome to stay as well, you know."

Tybalt manages to pull his gaze away from Juliette just long enough to shoot Benvolio a sharp glance, only to find Benvolio running his fingers through his brown curls and replying, "It was no problem at all. And I thank you for your offer, Juliette, but I'd hate to intrude."

"As you wish," Juliette replies, sounding almost disappointed before turning her gaze back to Tybalt and gesturing for him to take the seat across from her. He does so before looking up at Benvolio and saying, "Thank you, Benvolio."

Benvolio nods and says, "Well, if that's all, I'll just be leaving. Until later, Juliette. Tybalt."

Tybalt simply nods while Juliette says, "Until later, Benvolio."

Benvolio leaves then, closing the door behind Tybalt and Juliette alone. All of the sudden, Tybalt feels hopelessly out of place in this room and with Juliette, because this room is too light and too bright and too blue and too Juliette, as if he has no right to sit across from her, clad in red and full of contained-for-now fire. He's not unfamiliar with this feeling, having felt it many times around his family members and most especially around her, because Juliette is small and blonde and _good_ while he's tall and black-haired and darker than Juliette could ever dream of becoming.

"How have you been, Tybalt?" Juliette asks, startling Tybalt out of his musings as he replies, "I've been good. How about you?"

"The same," Juliette replies, smiling softly and he raises his glass to his lip, taking a drink of the wine within. Juliette looks thoughtful for a moment before she says, "Roméo and I have been speaking of the possibility of having children."

Tybalt nearly chokes on his wine before asking, "So soon?"

Juliette laughs and then says, "Perhaps not right away but we've decided that we don't want to wait years to have children."

"As long as you're sure of your decision," Tybalt replies. The thought of Juliette with children is not perhaps the most pleasant one, because part of him still sees and will always see the little girl she used to be, with tangled hair and missing teeth. She's grown up completely, and he supposes that while he's known this for a while now and his thoughts of her have reflected as such, it's different like this, because it puts her one step closer to Lady Capulet and even Lady Montague when she's supposed to be just Juliette, nothing more and nothing less than just herself.

"I am," Juliette says, firmly, her brown gaze hardening into something that he imagines is similar to his own before softening once more as she adds, "And you'll be Uncle Tybalt, of course."

"I wouldn't accept anything less," Tybalt replies, smiling. Juliette smiles as well before asking, "What about you and your wife? Do you think that you and she will have children?"

"Perhaps," he replies, taking a drink of wine before admitting, "Children aren't something she and I have talked about much yet."

"That's understandable. After all, you and she haven't been married for long," Juliette says in return. He wants to say something about how she and Roméo haven't been married for long either, but holds his tongue and instead takes a bite of bread before asking, in a less than subtle attempt to change the subject from that of children to something else, anything else, "Where is Roméo?"

Juliette takes a drink from her own glass before replying, "Talking with his mother, I do believe. About what, I'm not too sure. He'll probably tell me later."

Tybalt nods, looking back down to his food in order to decide what to eat next. He can feel Juliette's thoughtful gaze on him, so he looks back up to her just as she asks, "Are you happy?"

He can remember her asking the same question the night he'd married his Montague, and what his answer was then. 

_I will be_ , he'd said then.

"I am," he says now, more than certain of his answer and how he feels, and Juliette smiles and says, "Good. It makes me happy to know that you're happy."

Tybalt smiles at her and then they both continue their lunch, stopping occasionally to talk of anything that comes to mind.

Juliette walks him to the front gate after they finish eating and drinking and talking and says, "You have to come back soon. Or maybe Roméo and I will come to visit you. But either way, you had better bring your wife. I would like to become close friends with her but I can't do that if I never see her or you."

"You're welcome to visit whenever you wish. It was and will forever be your home," Tybalt replies, bending to press his lips to Juliette's cheek. They say their goodbyes and then he begins his walk back to his home. The sun shines brightly down on him and he's glad that he dressed lightly today. The walk doesn't take long, and soon enough he's opening the gate and walking into the building. One of his cousins passes by him in the hallway, on her way to where ever she's going, and he calls out to her, asking, "Do you happen to know where my wife is?"

"Last I heard, she was in the gardens," his cousin replies and he nods before saying, "Thank you."

She hums in response and then he makes his way down this hallway and then turns down another before entering back into the brightness of the midday sunlight. Almost right away, he can see his Montague, sitting on a bench, clad in a long, Capulet-red dress, and Mercutio, immediately recognizable even from the back due to his wild hair and purple clothing, standing in front of her.

"Of course," Tybalt can hear Mercutio say as he turns to leave, and he knows then that he's walked in on the tail end of their conversation. At that moment, his Montague sees him, and a wide smiles breaks out across her face at the sight of him. He can't help but to smile as well, though he quickly forces it from his face as he says, "Mercutio. Montague."

"Good afternoon, Tybalt," Mercutio says in reply, watching Tybalt as he walks closer and takes the seat next to her, before continuing, "I was just leaving."

"I'm not going to stop you," Tybalt says, wryly, as his lips twitch upwards.

Mercutio nods and says, "Oh, and Tybalt? You do anything to hurt her, and I'll hurt you."

"I'm not going to hurt her," Tybalt says, exchanging a glance with his Montague. There's an unspoken 'anymore' at the end of his statement, because the both of them know he already has, even if Mercutio doesn't, and he knows by the look on hhs Montague's face that she understands his implication. Part of him almost wants to laugh because all he needs now is for Roméo to threaten him, or not threaten him, as with Benvolio, with bodily harm and then he'll have a complete set.

"Good," Mercutio says simply, before turning and leaving. Tybalt looks at her and she looks at him, unabashedly admiring him, just as he is her.

"What was he doing here?" Tybalt asks, glancing in the direction Mercutio left.

"He just wanted to talk," she replies after a moment's hesitation, as if there's something she's reluctant to tell him.

"About what?" Tybalt asks, curiosity filling him at the thought of what she's not telling him. She looks at him, conflict momentarily passing over her face before being replaced by something that can only be described as resolution. She sighs and then asks, "Do you remember when you and I went a while without seeing each other?"

That's certainly a gentle way to put it, he thinks to himself, laughing without much humor before asking, "How could I ever forget? But what does that have to do with Mercutio?"

She looks away from him as if in shame before replying, "Because he and I fucked during that time, and he wanted to make sure that it meant nothing to either of us."

Tybalt looks away from her, not wanting to even look at her because he's trying to keep himself from giving into the urge to do something he'll regret. He's angry and he's hurt, and can't help but to feel betrayed, all because she did what he couldn't bring himself to do, and with Mercutio, of all people. He doesn't trust himself to speak, because all he wants to do is shout and to fight and he wants her to hurt like this revelation is hurting him because he knows it's all his fault she even felt the need to seek out Mercutio, because he fucked up and let his feelings for Juliette slip through and he shouldn't have and he knows this. Instead, he bites down on the inside of his cheek, taking solace in the pain even as her gaze burns into his skin. After a long moment, while trying his best to keep all of his anger and insecurity from bleeding through into the tone of his voice, he asks, "Does it?"

"Of course, Tybalt," she replies, softly and earnestly, reaching out and touching the top of his hand, running her fingertips over his scarred knuckles before laying her hand flat atop his. Tybalt nods, still not daring to look back at her as he asks, "Why Mercutio, of all people?" 

"He'd offered his services before, and I was desperate and lonely, since I believed that you and I were never going to be together again," she answers. He wants to tell her that even he didn't seek anyone else out, but doesn't, because even in his anger, for the first time in what must be his entire life, he doesn't want to start a fight, even if she is a Montague by birth and even if she did fuck Mercutio.

"I don't see any reason why something like that would happen again, but I need to know that if we do, you won't turn to him," Tybalt says, glancing at her and then away again, this time towards the ground. It's irrational, he knows because she married him and not Mercutio, but he can't shake the slight fear that Mercutio is possibly _better_ than him, so he needs to know this, at least. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see a glare briefly settle on her face before melting into an expression that's both concerned and astonished. Belatedly, he realizes that he's not turned far enough away from her for her to not be able to see the pain and the hurt and the damned insecurity he feels written all across his face, and that this is likely the first time he's ever let himself fully slip in front of her.

She removes her hand from his and reaches out and up, until her hand is resting on his cheek as she says, softly but honestly, "I promise you that I won't. I love you, Tybalt, not him and not anyone else in Verona or anyone outside of Verona."

"You love me," he says, unable to believe what he's hearing, finally looking back towards her and meeting her eyes. He knows more than likely looks shocked, but doesn't care because he is, because he's heard something he never thought he'd ever hear from her. She loves him. She doesn't hate him or not hate him or even just likes him. 

_She loves him_.

"I love you," she repeats, moving her other hand to rest on the other side of his face as she stares into his eyes, her gaze gentler than it has any right to be. A small smile spreads across his lips, because Tybalt of the Capulets loves a Montague girl and somehow, this Montague girl loves him too, as he replies, finally, finally, finally, "I love you too."

She leans in then and presses her lips to his in what has to be the most gentle kiss they've ever shared with together. So many things have changed since the first time they were here, when they met in the gardens that one fateful night, and desoite all of the bad moments, he doesn't regret a single that happened between them because it led them to this moment. Tybalt wonders if she feels the same. 

He's not sure how long they stay like that, only that when they pull away from one another, he does so with slight reluctance. Her hands fall to rest in her lap as they both simply look at one another for several long moments. He's just thinking to himself of how much red suits her, perhaps even more than blue did, when she asks, "How did lunch with Juliette go?"

"It went well," Tybalt replies simply, thinking back to the lunch and the news that he may become an honorary uncle soon and then adds, "She told me that she and Roméo are thinking of having children."

"So soon?" She asks, surprise clear on her face and in her voice. The corners of his lips twitch in his attempt to fight back a smile at just his similar her reaction is to the news as his was. After somewhat successfully preventing himself from smiling, Tybalt nods in reply before asking, because of Juliette's question to him and because of his own wonderings, "Would you ever want to have children?"

"Perhaps some day. I just want to enjoy being married to you for now, so I'm not in any sort of hurry," she answers. He's relieved by her answer because her sentiment mirrors his own. While he thinks he would like to have children someday, he's not sure if he's particularly ready to be a father, or if he'd even be able to be a good father to their children. His own father was far from a good one, and even Lord Capulet was barely passable as both a husband or a father. 

"What about you?" She asks, curiosity shining in her eyes at what his answer may be. If and when they do have children, Tybalt thinks to himself, he hopes that they have her eyes. After a moment, he finally replies, "I feel the same way. I think I would like to have children someday, but I'm not in a hurry either."

She nods in response and then rest her head on his shoulder as the two of them sit together in a comfortable silence. After a while, she breaks the silence to ask, "Do you ever stop and think of how much everything has changed since you first came across me in the gardens that night?"

"All the time," Tybalt replies, because he does, and then asks, keeping his voice casual, "You never have told me what you were really doing there in the first place."

She looks at him in surprise and he knows that she had likely thought that he had simply forgotten about it, since he has waited this long to mention anything of it, but he doesn't think he could forget that first night and everything that happened during it even if he wanted to. Suddenly, she snorts at something, no doubt at some memory from that night, and then replies, "Roméo had actually asked me to deliver a letter he'd written for Juliette."

"I see," Tybalt replies, chuckling, because it seems as if Roméo has been unknowingly responsible for every step of their relationship so far, from their first meeting to their marriage. She looks at him, eyebrows raised in curiosity. He sees the expression on her face and says, "I suppose we ought to thank Roméo for getting us into this entire mess, then."

"I suppose we could thank the tree you fucked me against, if you'd rather. It's a shame there's no way to know which tree it was, though," she says, and then makes a show of looking around at all of the trees around them, obviously trying to find a tree that looks familiar.

"Well, I suppose I'll just have to fuck you against each one to make up for it," Tybalt says, very casually, and presses his lips to hers. Her lips are soft and warm against his, and he's almost disappointed when she pulls away from him in order to stand up.

"Well, what're we waiting for?" She asks, standing with your hands on your hips, looking down at him for once. A smile passes across Tybalt's face as he stands up as well, all of his disappointment disappearing, and then the two of them are walking farther and farther into the woods, too rushed to appear casual and too casual to appear rushed. Once they seem to be a far enough distance away from the building to be safe, she stops and Tybalt does as well. With a smile on her face, she turns to him, grabbing handfuls of the front of his red shirt and pulling him down to her height in order to press her lips to his in a kiss that's nothing like their previous ones from today, being all heat, a near violent clash of lips and teeth and tongue, instead of gentleness. 

She releases your grip on his shirt in order to move her hands to his hair, tangling your fingers in the dark strands, as his own hands move to rest on her hips before moving lower, down her thighs. He almost expects to hit skin, like he would in one of her old dresses, before remembering how much longer the skirts of the Capulets are. While red may suit his Montague very well, he finds himself missing her Montague skirts and how easy they made it to access the softness of her skin. In his frustration and annoyance and desperation to feel her, Tybalt grabs her skirt in both hands and yanks it up, all the way from where it falls around her calves to up around your waist, baring her legs and her underthings. 

Tybalt can feel her smile against his lips as his hands move to the top of her underthings before pulling them down her legs and leaving her bare. She steps out of them once they're far enough down before kicking them away with one booted foot, and disentangles her hands from his hair as he begins to pull away from her. Her skirt falls back down and she sighs in what can only be exasperation before asking, "May I borrow your knife, Tybalt?"

He raises his eyebrows at her but complies, unsheathing the knife and handing it to her. He watches as she takes the knife in one hand and the skirt of her dress in one hand before she carefully but quickly begins cutting through the fabric, thoroughly ruining the dress. She smiles in triumph as red fabric falls away from her dress, leaving her with a skirt that now ends well above her knees. She offers Tybalt the knife back, but he barely pays it any mind, his gaze trailing over her legs and noting the fact that her skirt is now the perfect length for several pleasurable activities.

"Just toss it away somewhere," he tells his Montague before stepping closer to her. She does so and then steps backwards as well, until her back hits a tree, and that's when he makes up his mind about what he wants to do to her first.

"May I?" Tybalt asks, dropping to his knees in front of her and resting his hands on her thighs, his voice thick with desire. She nods in response, gazing upon him with a burning desire he's sure matches his own. Tybalt presses a kiss to one of her thighs and then the other before moving in closer to her, ducking underneath her self-tailored skirt as his hands move around to grip the backs of her thighs. He pauses for a moment, simply enjoying the softness of her thighs and the heady scent of arousal that's all because of him, before finally leaning in, pressing his mouth to the heat of her sex. 

Even between her thighs like he is now, he can still hear to gasp that escapes her before she shifts against him, angling her hips to allow him to reach her better. He alternates between licking and sucking at her, circling his tongue once around the nub of her clit before going lower, running his tongue over the lips of her sex before sucking on them. He moves one hand from the back of her thigh to her sex and then to her clit, circling it with his fingers while he fucks her with his tongue. 

He briefly considers the possibility that she's the best thing he's ever tasted in his life, before deciding that he'd be perfectly happy to die with his face between her thighs. A long, loud moan escapes from her lips and heads straight to his cock as she leans slightly more back against the tree before tangling her fingers in his hair. It's not long before she's coming against his mouth with an even louder moan than before, gripping his hair so tightly he'd be surprised to find it still attached, though at this moment he can't find it within himself to care about the state of his hair, not when she's riding out her orgasm on his lips and tongue and fingers. After her orgasm subsides, her hands fall free from his hair and he sits back on his heels, noting that despite the soreness of his scalp, his hair seems to be mostly unharmed.

"I want you," Tybalt says, desperately, staring up at his Montague, breathing deeply, his cock straining against the confines of his pants as he looks at her, taking in the only slightly sated desire clear in her eyes and the way her breasts rise and fall with every breath she takes.

"Then have me," she replies, a smile spreading across her face. He stands up and her hungry gaze falls to the front of his pants, where his cock strains desperately, painfully, against the all too tight material of his red pants. She reaches out towards him, untucking his shirt from the waist of his pants and then finally undoing the fabric hell that has become his pants. As soon as she gets his pants undone and pulled slightly down, his cock springs free, hard and flushed, throbbing and already leaking at the tip. She wraps her hand around him and strokes him twice before pulling away again. He groans in a mix of pleasure and disappointment, wishing she had kept touching him but also knowing that it was for the best because he knows he's not likely to last long, before saying, "Wrap your legs around me."

She does so with his help, and then she's pinned between his body and the tree, with one arm around his neck and the hand of her other arm on his cock, guiding him into the wet heat of her sex. He and she moan at nearly the same time at the feeling of him finally being inside of her, each and every inch of his cock sliding easily into her, aided even more by the lingering slickness of her prior orgasm.

He's not sure of how long either of them are going to last and he finds he doesn't really care, because they'll have plenty of time to take their time at another time. Tybalt fucks her desperately, hard and fast in the pursuit of his own orgasm. His Montague wraps her other arm around his neck, pulling him even closer to her until she's practically clinging to him, and before long she's coming around him with a moan. Tybalt buries his face in the crook of her neck, glad that even now she still care before him, as he too reaches his tipping point, the walls of her sex milking him for all he's got as he comes inside of her with a muffled groan of her name. After both her orgasm and his subside, they both separate. She leans back against the tree as if to steady herself, gazing upon him with an expression that is satisfaction, happiness, and love all at once. 

It's then that it dawns on him that it was _her_ name to fall from his lips as he reached his peak, and he can't help but to feel a surge of pride at how far they've come from their first time in the gardens, how much progress they've made together, and how he loves her and she loves him. He doubts he'll ever stop loving Juliette, but he can already feel his love for her turning back into the platonic, familial love that she deserves from him. Rather than saying anything, they both turn back to the business of righting themselves back into some semblance of presentability.

Tybalt tucks himself back into his pants and fixes his shirt, glancing over at her only to find her picking up the part of her skirt she'd cut off. The thought of the look on his aunt's face if she were to see what his Montague had done to the skirt makes him smile in amusement before he turns and begins looking around for his knife.

"So, how will we know that we've crossed off this tree from the list?" She asks, curiously, from somewhere behind him. He thinks for a moment before his gaze falls upon the metallic glint of his knife and an idea pops into his mind.

"By carving a mark into it," he replies, bending and picking his knife up. He can feel her gaze on him as he straightens and walks over to the tree. He carefully considers it before carving an X on the tree and re-sheathing his knife at his hip after he's done. She nods in approval before looking down at the fabric she'd cut off of her skirt, a sheepish smile spreading across her face as she says, "Hopefully we won't run into Lady Capulet on the way back in. I very much doubt she'd approve of my fashion modifications."

Tybalt looks at her, appreciating her, starting from her face all the way down to her feet and then back up, because even if his aunt does disapprove and he knows she would, he very much approves of the new skirt himself. Once his gaze is once again on her face, he replies, "I personally think the dress looks better this way. It's much more flattering now."

"Of course you think so," she says with a laugh before leaning in and kissing him on the cheek.

Tybalt smiles and offers her his arm. She accepts and then the two of them turn and walk out of the gardens together, arm in arm. He looks down at her, his smile widening as he marvels at the fact that after everything they've been through, they've somehow managed to end up here, in the gardens once more, the same place they met for the first time, finally happy, and deeply in love.

**Author's Note:**

> To this day, I still find myself unable to remember anything about the writing process of the first part of this series, only that I was looking through the document where I kept everything I'd written then, found it, and decided it was good enough to post.
> 
> That was over a year ago now, and when I made the decision to post it, I had no idea where this series would go or what would become of it and because of it. Posting this final part now is bittersweet because it means that this series has come to an end, but also that this series has finally, finally, finally reached a conclusion that I hope everyone reading it finds to be good enough.
> 
> All I can say now is thank you to everyone who has read this series, no matter if they've been reading from the beginning or from halfway through or even if this part will be the first that someone reads. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, thank you.


End file.
